[CONTENT NOTICE: If you’re unfamiliar with my stuff, this may not be the best place to start. Just sayin’.]
Hey, Skeeter! Whore’s comin’ ‘round!
Why, hi there, sleepy head! Nice of ya to finally join us. I was beginnin’ to wonder if you an’ me was gonna get a chance to chat before you move on. I ain’t sure why, but it just don’t feel right somehow, havin’ a girl like you and not even spendin’ a minute gettin’ to know her.
…
Okay see, you gotta settle down! It’s gonna go best for you if you stay still and do as you’re told. I know you’re confused as shit right now; the drugs take a while to wear off, and that ball-gag probably tastes nasty. But this is all gonna go from bad to worse really fuckin’ quick if you piss me off. You stay nice and still, an’ I won’t have to tear you up none; I’m a perfessional, so I don’t like deliverin’ damaged goods. But I swear to Christ, you give me any lip, I’ll break your fuckin’ jaw and give the buyer a discount. Your days of raisin’ a fuss were over the minute we grabbed you up outside the Walmart… this here’s the new order, baby.
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Yeah, atta girl. Cryin’ is fine. You need to cry, you go ahead. Been doin’ this long enough, I kinda like it anyhow. Paints your face up all nasty, like a dirty little piece of trash. Makes this whole thing simpler. For me, anyways.
Me ‘n cousin Skeeter been snatchin’ up girls like you for at least— what it been, Skeet? Three years? Yeah, that’s what I figgered. Three of the best damn years ever, too. (Amen, knock wood, Jesus wept.) Been like a dream, almost… but better than a dream, y’know? ‘Cause dreams always got some fucked up shit about your family when you was a kid, or a dog what got run over, or if yer Skeet, your sister’s big ol’ hairy pussy chasin’ ya ’round the yard. Heh! And then– what?!
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Oh, calm the fuck down, Skeeter! You know I was just funnin’ ya! I ain’t never told no one about your sister’s fuckin’ bush ‘cept this dumb bitch here, and once Charlie gets hold of her, she ain’t gonna remember neither one of us outside a week!
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Well fine, that’s great… you just go pout in the woods while I stay here doin’ the fuckin’ job! Go on, you lazy little sack of shit!
Makes me sick. Fuckin’ baby, that’s all he is! If he weren’t half a retard and can’t get no other work, I’d just as soon do this shit by myself. I’ve kept cunts like you out here in the heat for hours, rapin’ ’em raw, pissin’ on ’em just to pass the time while we wait, an’ ain’t none of ’em cried as much as goddamned Skeeter. Not by half. He ain’t got no sense of humor about nothin’, an’ I keep tellin’ him that if he’s gonna go through life bein’ that fuckin’ stupid, he’d better learn to find it funny!
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Funny, motherfucker! You heard me!
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Pfft. Whatever. Let him pout. We got each other, right? Where was I? Oh, yeah.
The funniest thing about this job is, we almost told Charlie —that’s your new owner, you gonna meet him soon— to go fuck hisself, first time he come around askin’ for help. Said he was up from Floribama, lookin’ to hire him some “dilligent recidivists”. Well, Skeet thought he was callin’ us queers and took after him with a tire iron, but turned out, he just wanted some good ol’ boys to get up to some bad ol’ things. And hell, that there’s our speciality.
Charlie’s one of them– what you call it, a recycler? I don’t know the liberal cuck word for it I guess, but he basically pays us to bring him girls –girls no one’ll miss, girls that need to be taught a lesson– and then he fixes ’em up. Whether they’s dumbass feminists, hairy lesbos, or stuck-up little teases, he polishes ’em all up until they’s obedient little fuckholes like God intended. Then he sells ’em to fancy, rich sons of bitches too lazy to catch their own pussy. Good work, if you can get it.
So now, every couple months, ol’ Charlie gives us a call, an’ we go out huntin’. And sooner or later, I end up sittin’ here, havin’ a talk with someone like you.
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Them puppy-dog eyes ain’t gettin’ you nowhere, honey. This is all a done deal. Ain’t no one comin’ to the rescue, and ain’t no one gonna have a change of heart at the last minute. Your life ain’t no movie, or if it is, you sure as fuck ain’t the leadin’ lady.
But at least you don’t gotta worry about it turnin’ into no snuff film; far as I know, ain’t no one never killed one of Charlie’s girls. Once y’all is trained, you bitches cost too much to throw away, even for the sultan of Whateverthefuckistan. They may beat and breed you half to death, but they’ll always pull you back from the edge and patch your ass up, at least until you’re old and worn out.
Honestly, my guess is, your life’s gonna be really long. So long you’ll wish it was shorter. But that’s one of the first things Charlie’ll be learnin’ you up at The Farm… there ain’t no more wishes for you. You don’t get to feel safe, you don’t get to say “no,” and you don’t get to quit. You just plain don’t get to “get to”, if ya know what I mean. Heh.
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You laugh when I say somethin’ funny, bitch.
For the next few hours, I own your goddamned life, every last bit. Ain’t nobody paid a dime for you yet, so all that talk about you being valuable don’t apply! I could slit your throat and throw you over there in them bushes, and it wouldn’t matter to no one who matters. But still, here I am, tryin’ to start your education in the nicest way possible, and you can’t even give me a polite fuckin’ smile? Does that make sense? What kind of stupid shit is that?
Yeah, I– I was definitely right when I picked you out. I knew there was somethin’ stuck up an’ cuntish about you. You need this, don’t ya? I can smell it on ya and see it in your eyes. This has been a long time comin’, an’ I’m glad I get to be a part of it.
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Ah, what are you, scared now? Of a little rape? Are you kiddin’? Half the chicks I know been raped one way or the other; it ain’t that big a deal. Hell, my mama got raped; that’s how she had me. We’ll have a little fun with ya, get ya loosened up some, and that way you’ll be ready for Charlie. You be nice to me an’ Skeeter –take this shit like a woman should– an’ it’s just gonna make everything easier for you. Just ’cause you don’t want it, that don’t mean it ain’t a kindness.
Here, scooch over so’s I can sit down; I pulled my back gettin’ you into the truck earlier, and Skeet’s still off somewhere bawlin’ or pullin’ his pud, so let’s relax a bit and keep gettin’ familiar.
Goddamn there’s a lotta junk in the bed of this truck! Cops’d probably call ’em “trophies” or some shit, but truth is, we just get drunk and forget what’s back here. You pile up enough trash, eventually all you can see’s the pile and not what’s in it.
Check this out: it’s one of them rape-prevention booklets they hand out to the all the college girls and what-not. I took it off a fat little feminazi we snatched up on a special request; I guess every now and then some freak comes in, lookin’ to buy a sow instead of a bitch, an’ we got to fill the order, same as usual. Not as much fun as pickin’ up someone sexy like you, but their asses pay the bills just as well.
Anyhow, I only remember her ’cause of this here booklet. I fuckin’ love it!
Ahem. “When it comes to rape, how a woman is dressed does not mat-ter. Clothes aren’t a risk fact-or.” Now, see, that’s some bullshit right there. Hell, look at you: them yoga pants you had on were all kinds of risky, ‘specially with the way your pussy was tryin’ to eat its way out of the crotch. Heh. Why would I have even bothered to look for another girl to snatch when you had the goods out on display for me? Every man who saw your ass this mornin’ thought about jumpin’ ya; I was just the first one to go ahead and do it.
Why do ya think they lie to girls like you? Tellin’ ’em they ain’t to blame when everyone knows they are? That’s this whole booklet, from front to back: “Ain’t nothin’ y’all’s fault.” Nothin’ bad that ever happens to a woman has anything to do with somethin’ she was doin’, see? They try to pretty it up, talkin’ ’bout how strong and important and equal you bitches are, but a few sentences later, they go right back to preachin’ that you ain’t responsible for shit, and no matter what you did, you couldn’t have done it no better.
So how I see it is, they think y’all’s weak. They think that nothin’ you do makes a difference, an’ that none y’all can make good choices nor take care of yourselves. But if they just said that, just flat-out admitted it, then they figure y’all would just give up. An’ why not? Why would you bother to do all that schoolin’ and workin’ and cock-suckin’ to get to the top, if you knew in your gut that any man you met could take it all away in a minute? Why wouldn’t most of ya just surrender and go back to bein’ breeders, pack mules, and dirty whores like your great-grandmas?
Them feminists are somethin’ else. All that man-hatin’ an’ bra-burnin’, but come the end of the day, nothin’ thinks less of a woman than another woman. I can’t–
…
Well, fuck me.
Looks like Charlie’s pullin’ up early today, just when we’s havin’ us a meetin’ of the minds. Dammit… I was really lookin’ forward to spit-roastin’ you with Skeet. And now I’m gonna have to listen to him whine about not gettin’ his dick wet the whole drive home.
Charlie’s wavin’ me over; you sit tight.
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…
…
Yep, guess this is good-bye, sweetheart. Charlie’s in a hurry, so I couldn’t sweet-talk him into lettin’ us play with ya no more. Sounds like you’re gonna be back at his place with a cattle-prod up your ass inside the hour. Really wish I could see that… guess our love just wasn’t meant to be.
You be good, y’hear? Do as you’re told. Take it all, no matter what it is or how much it hurts. Accept everything, and let it all happen.
And forget the lies. This is all your fault.
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